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Sword Of Knowledge

Colors of Hyperacussis

By Jemma Rosewater Published 3 years ago 4 min read
Sword Of Knowledge
Photo by Adrien Olichon on Unsplash

I am 1 in 50,000 who gets stabbed in the ears from a fork hitting a plate,

Throbbing lingering migraines from the sound of the refrigerator, the girl whom for a decade fought her way through a pitch black, dark, they were everywhere coming from all sides all the time, the attacks, arrows specifically targeting her head and ears from an invisible enemy, she stubbles along in the inky blackness blindly trying to protect herself, running and running, but she could almost never out run the arrows from her invisible pursuers she was sinking and falling being sucked into a void of blackness so thick she could not even see the light of her soul

The arrows to the head and ears come every second now and they have hot knives and large rocks attached to their ends, she doesn’t know how she is still alive, she wishes that she wasn’t, she softly calls for help, not being able to yell because she had hyperacusis, the invisible attackers don’t stop and it seems that no one else hears her quiet cries and even if they did would they even believe her?

Invisible enemies attacking her head and ears and being trapped in this dark dark black void, that was too crazy for anyone to believe, yet it was her reality

She curls up into a ball in the blackness trying to cover and protect her head from the arrows, rocks, and spheres, but it was like her hands weren’t even there although the weapons passed through her hands painlessly the impact when they hit and stabbed her head and ears was with the same amount of painful force as though her hands weren’t there at all

There was nothing but the complete blackness and the girl knew she was trapped and that she may never get out of this, and she’s partially right, she won't not for 8 years, during that time she sheds buckets of tears, consumed by the pain, and the thick blackness, the invisible enemies seem to never get tired they are ruthless and relentless in there attacks to her

weeping tears flowing down her cheeks, but this time her tears glow blue in the darkness slightly illuminating her brown face, then her head and ears start turning bright red and glowing, slowly three glowing fairies, one male and two female, there skin and wings covered in rainbow patterns appear in front of her, bright gold glowing paper falls from them, documents and documents and a pink pen, “knowledge is the key to relief, information is the most powerful weapon” they say in unison, gone now on her own again

So many words trying to think clearly, the pain consumed her mind tries to imprison her brain, it's important so important that she figures this out, reading and reading slowly things become clear, everything moving a snail's pace while the attacks of stones and knives continue to assault her head and ears, she’s smart though taking up the pen she writes writes everything that she can find from the documents fashioning it into a powerful sword

They appear she can see the giant boulders, arrows, and knives aimed at her head and the people behind them, literally all around her

Standing up grimacing with pain, reading from her sword, it seems useless the pain throbbing and stabbing doesn’t stop, slowly it does though

One by one they stop loading boulders, arrows, and knives they put down their weapons

It is silent and the darkness begins to disapate, in its place a beautiful pink, purple, orange, yellow, blue and red sunrise

Not in the forest anymore, the pain slowly decreasing, no more attacks

She stands there holding her word sword holding the papers power

Arms stretched above her head twirling and skipping around the lush green grass

Laying down surrounded by flowers and crystal blue ponds the golden yellow sun shining down over head

Oh no, she’s comfortable and taken care of, but its still there, the blackness surrounding her private oasis, she sees them now, people curled in the blackness covering their heads, being attacked by people hurling boulders and arrows, and knives

pain, the pain she endured herself for so long

Charging with the sword of words and documents, multiplying them handing them out to the tormented, using her own sword and standing and speaking to protect them as best she can, from the pain

fact or fiction

About the Creator

Jemma Rosewater

I’m a 17 year old writer & advocate for my rare disease, hyperacusis. I love writing poetry, non fiction articles, & short stories on a variety of topics: mermaids, fantasy, emotions experienced throughout human life, sci-fi, fantasy, ect.

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